An Olympian Feat

Hades rubbed his temples as he watched the boulder roll down the mountainside, yet again, and somehow, Sisyphus was surprised it happened. Again. As if it hadn’t been happening for the last… two thousand years? He had lost count, honestly. What was the point anyway?

“What is it, darling?” Persephone asked as she approached him from behind, running her hands across her husband’s shoulders.

“I don’t understand him,” he said, pointing in Sisyphus’ direction. “Every so often, he makes it up the mountain, and then he stumbles, or the boulder gets stuck, or there’s an earthquake, and then the rock rolls back down. He’s surprised every time it happens. It’s almost like he thinks he can actually make it to the top.” The god of death chuckled dryly, rolling his eyes at the man he cursed so long ago. “He was the one that boasted of his own cleverness. He said he surpassed Zeus himself, which isn’t that difficult, but I couldn’t let a mortal think they were better than a god.”

Persephone grinned as she wrapped her arms around his torso and kissed his neck softly. “How dare he. If he were truly clever, he would set up barriers to stop the boulder from rolling down.”

“Exactly! Koalemos could have figured it out after two thousand years! Of course, I did enchant the boulder so it could never make it to the top, but after all this time, he hasn’t even tried a different technique,” Hades exclaimed, sighing deeply as he shook his head.

“Are you regretting your curse?” the goddess asked curiously.

“No, no…,” he began, “he deserves it. Of all the Greeks that have marred the earth, he has been one of the foulest. Only Tantalus could have been worse, that sorry excuse for a demigod and nephew, which I feel says a lot because Zeus...”

The beautiful goddess laughed and faced him. “Enough. If you start raving about your brother, our nice evening will be spoiled. Come now.”

…

Neither saw the hawk perched just above them, watching the duo as they glided away from the hillside. The hawk watched as they continued, out of sight, before taking off toward the mountain. It saw Sisyphus, the miserable human, sitting in defeat as the boulder rolled back down. The predator landed a few feet away from him, waiting, watching. When the man made no effort to move, the bird squawked.

Sisyphus jerked in surprise. Nothing ever came near the mountain. He cleared his throat, realizing how thirsty he was, trying to rid his mouth of the dryness he suddenly felt. “Hello,” he rasped. “What are you doing here, little one?”

“You don’t have to patronize me,” a young, giddy voice sounded from the bird’s beak. “I’m here to help you.”

Sisyphus tried to laugh, but a cough came out instead. “You? Help me? Don’t you know who I am?”

“Of course, I do, you stupid fool. I saw the day you were born. I watched as you ruled, as you broke Zeus’s laws. I saw you cheat death, and Hades, and I was there when your judgement was passed.” The voice boomed around the man, no longer young and happy, but angry and ancient.

“My apologies,” he cowered. Sisyphus was quiet a moment before he asked, “How can you help?”

The hawk’s beak turned upward. It was an unsightly visage, giving an almost human like face to the avian. The smile widened, and quickly, it morphed into a handsome young man, carrying a staff with wings upon his shoulders.

Sisyphus’s eyes grew. “Lord Hermes!” he bowed. “H-how may—”

“That’s enough,” Hermes cut him off. “I grew bored of your punishment Sisy… After all these years, and you do the same thing. You push the rock up the mountain, and just as you’re about to complete your task, it rolls back down.”

“I must, my lord. That is the punishment Hades has cursed me with.”

Hermes rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You forget, dear boy, that I, too, am an Olympian. I can curse and bless as well as the rest of my family. And I have an idea for you to be rid of this ridiculous sentence.”

…

What felt like days passed in the perpetual twilight as Sisyphus listened to Hermes’ advice. Moving some of the larger rocks here, placing some half-broken trees there. Hermes managed to bring him a net as well, which he used to string up between two of the trees as a literal safety net.

“Now,” Hermes said, “I have enchanted these shoes to give you a little boost, but they will not let you stop until you have gotten this boulder to the top. So, once you start pushing this time, do. not. stop. Do you hear me?” Sisyphus nodded intently. “And don’t forget—no one can know I helped you. Now, get to it.”

Sisyphus did not appreciate being ordered around like a servant, even if Hermes was helping him. He wanted so desperately to know why. While Sisyphus was hesitant to trust the god, especially the god of mischief, he did not voice that hesitancy, nor did he question Hermes ideas or motives. If he could be free of this curse, he could finally have some peace.

Sisyphus positioned himself behind the accursed rock, letting it rest against his chest before he began walking up the—what should be—well-worn mountain. It was Tartarus. It didn’t matter if he had been here one year or one hundred years. The terrain never changed from his steps, nor from the boulder rolling down.

He had lost track of how many times he failed to make it to the top. What was the point in counting when it was his fate to do this throughout eternity? He felt so old, even if his body was the same as the day he had died. He only wanted to rest.

He steeled himself, inhaling and exhaling deeply before placing his hands against the rock. It was both a blessing and a curse that the mountain was not steep. He followed Hermes’ advice, walking surely, carefully, slowly. Do not rush, for you may stumble. Keep your arms bent and close to your body. Keep your hands loosely on the boulder. Gripping it tightly will only wear you out and cause your grip to faulter. Slow, steady, sure.

Those words became his mantra as he began to walk. He focused on his breathing, his steps, the curve of the rock, the slope of the ground. He climbed, higher and higher, keeping the same thoughts rotating in his mind. Do not rush, for you may stumble… Keep your hands loose… Slow, steady, sure.

Hermes watched at a distance, sitting under a large cypress tree, as Sisyphus slowly made his way up the mountain. He felt today would be the day. Indeed, his wit could outmatch Hades’ curse. Hermes felt a presence around him, and he smiled to himself. “Hello, Theios,” he said as Hades approached him.

“Hermes… To what do I owe the pleasure?” the god of death questioned skeptically.

“Oh, I was delivering a message when I got distracted by Sisyphus,” he shrugged. “Something feels differently today.”

“I watch him occasionally, but it is always the same. He goes up, and the boulder goes down. I don’t know why I expect something else to occur,” Hades said simply. He watched, though, as Hermes was right. Something was different. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. I gave some advice, but he’s so stubborn. I don’t think he listened to a word I said,” Hermes dismissed.

“Hermes…” Hades’s voice was low and threatening.

“Oh, Hades, calm down. Your curse is fine. I just wanted to give him hope.” The younger god laughed haughtily. And I may have improved his chances a bit. A devilish grin spread across his face, and for a brief moment, Hades was taken aback by the diabolical look.

“And I thought Hera was cruel,” Hades said in an almost whisper. Even he knew better than to make that goddess mad.

Hades leaned against the tree, and the pair watched as Sisyphus crept closer to the top. Hades either did not notice the new obstacles they had placed, or he simply chose to not comment on it. They were both transfixed on the unpleasant man. Minutes turned into hours, and Hades had to admit that he was impressed. Usually Sisyphus climbed faster than this. Usually he would’ve stumbled, or he would’ve lost his hold on the stone. He was beginning to get nervous.

Why would I be nervous? He’s cursed to do this for the rest of existence. Even with Hermes’ help, there’s nothing they could do to best me. Hades’ glanced at Hermes, then at Sisyphus. What did he do? Why is he still here?

“Something you need?” Hermes asked, breaking the long silence that had surrounded them.

“No. Nothing,” the god of death said easily. His eyes swept over Sisyphus. He could not see anything different about the man. No blessing to overwhelm his curse. His aura was as dark and dingy as ever. I will not interfere. He was cursed to forever push the boulder to the top of the mountain. If he makes it to the top, I have no choice than to remove it and allow him rest. Hades nodded to himself. If the Greek had managed to finally make it to the top, he would honor his word. Afterall, he wasn’t Zeus.

…

Although it was neither day nor night in Tartarus, Sisyphus felt as though he was beginning day two of the trek. It was another reason why it was so difficult to know how long he had been doing this, how many times he failed.

He could not see over the boulder, so he was not sure how close he was to the top. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see that he was higher than he realized. Perhaps he could make it this time. He was aching, and he wanted so badly to break away and stretch. But Hermes told him not to stop, so he wouldn’t. Do not rush… Slow, steady, sure… The words flowed through his mind. He could do this. He could beat this curse. He could be free.

…

Hades’ eyes widened as Sisyphus neared the peak. It wouldn’t be much longer before he would reach it. The boulder had to get caught. He had to falter. Something had to be done.

Hermes grinned to himself as Sisyphus pushed the boulder. He could almost see the man’s surprise when it fell from his grasp and rolled forward. A moment of silence spread across Tartarus as realization hit for the man and gods alike. A loud, triumphant voice called across the plane.

“He did it,” Hades murmured. “He succeeded.” Immediately, Hades willed himself to Sisyphus’ mountain.

Silently, Hermes snapped his fingers, lifting the shoes from Sisyphus’ feet before Hades could see them. Hermes flew over to the pair. He just had to know how Hades was going to react to this.

Hades appeared quickly, staring indignantly at the man. “Hmm. I suppose a ‘congratulations’ is in order, Sisyphus. Curious to how you were finally able to make it to the top.”

Sisyphus nodded solemnly. “Yes, my lord. It was curious indeed. I thought for sure I would fail again. I never thought I could achieve freedom, but—”

“‘Freedom’?” Hades barked out a laugh. “Who has ever said anything about ‘freedom’?”

Sisyphus mouth gaped at what Hades was saying. He doubted every single thing Hermes had said to him. All the hope that had been instilled instantly dissipated. He wanted to speak, to plead his case. He did as he was asked! He was to push the boulder up the mountain for all eternity. It was never said what would happen when he succeeded. There was never a question of ‘when,’ because he was never supposed to.

Hades saw the turmoil and anger spread across the human’s face. It served him right, especially by listening to Hermes, of whom chose that moment to land next to them.

“Sorry I’m late,” he joked. He could feel Hades’ coldness pour over him, and he tried not to shiver.

“YOU!” Hades bellowed. “You did this!”

“I did nothing.”

“You told me! You said you gave him hope! Don’t you know how strong hope is for mortals?! I gave him an impossible task. Everyone knew it was impossible. That’s why it was a curse! He was stuck in a self-fulfilling prophecy. He knew he would fail, so he allowed it to happen. That’s why it worked so perfectly for over two thousand years!” Tension thickened as Hades’ anger filled the space between them.

Hermes smiled nonchalantly. “You cursed the boulder to never get to the top. Hope, no matter how strong, can surpass a curse, especially from the almighty Hades.” He looked over to Sisyphus. “Congratulations, Sisy. May your rest be peaceful.” He flew away, taking some of the heightened emotions with him.

Hades stared at Sisyphus again. What to do with him now? Hades grinned. “Alright, Sisy,” he mocked, “Hermes may have helped you, but you are still in Tartarus. If, and that is a monumental ‘if,’ you ever manage to leave, you have to live in a way as to not return. You cannot assist anyone here in their torments, not that you would. But as it were, you, Sisyphus, son of King Aeolus, are free from your curse.”

…

           Sisyphus was happy. Apparently, it had been more than two thousand years since that had happened. He waited until Hades disappeared before shouting for joy once again. He felt like Atlas after Heracles built the pillars to hold up the sky. He stretched, finally finding relief in his aching joints and muscles.

           There were so many things he wanted to do. He wanted a real meal. With wine. Perhaps a woman. A bath! He groaned to himself. A bath sounded heavenly. He would find his way out of Tartarus, again, but he was actually freed this time. And once he was out, he would have it. He would have his rest.